A litany of thanks

Yesterday I promised to update a Thanksgiving newspaper column published 15 years ago. How much has changed since 1994? How much has stayed the same? Here is my attempt to tackle that question.

What am I thankful for this year?

I'm thankful that the boy who held my hand to cross the street 15 years ago now has hands much bigger than mine, hands that can carry heavy loads and reach over my head to retrieve things from the highest shelves. I'm thankful for his dry wit, for the way he loves to play with words, for his assistance at his sister's wedding, where his calm competence helped me keep my cool. He doesn't fall off his bike these days but he has faced some challenges in his progress toward becoming a pilot, and I'm thankful that he keeps getting back on the bike--er, plane.

I'm thankful for a daughter who's still singing all the time and who loves teaching others to develop their musical gifts. I'm thankful that she can bake an excellent custard pie, a skill I've never quite mastered. I'm thankful for the color and energy she brings into my life, and I'm thankful for how beautifully she and her husband are establishing their own home.

I'm thankful for a wonderful son-in-law who knows how to listen and how to encourage. I'm thankful that he understands so many mysteries, like electricity and car repair and how to fix a string of Christmas lights, and that he has great patience with those of us who don't. I'm thankful for the joy he spreads through music and laughter, and I'm thankful for how perfect a match he is for my daughter. And his hair. Let's not overlook that marvelous curly hair.

I'm thankful for a husband whose broad shoulders still carry so many burdens, even though those burdens have changed over the years. This year I'm especially thankful for those 21 lovely loaves of challah bread he baked for our daughter's wedding reception and the lovely words he shared during the service, and I'm thankful for the way he has carried me through five months of cancer treatments. I'm thankful that he fills the birdfeeders, chops wood to heat the house, grows the world's greatest tomatoes, fixes instant mashed potatoes when that's all my stomach can handle. I'm thankful for his calm assurance that we'll get through this trial, that there are happier times coming soon.

I'm thankful for my Hopeful hound, who is willing to accompany me anytime I'm ready to walk, regardless of the weather. I'm thankful for the gleeful way she bounds across the meadow after rabbits or squirrels or even deer, and I'm thankful that she doesn't often drag home the carcasses.

I'm thankful (still) for family and friends, who have stepped up to the plate in amazing ways this year to help us celebrate our daughter's wedding and help me struggle through my battle with cancer. I'm thankful for distant friends who send encouraging words and put up with my griping when I'm feeling low, and I'm thankful for local friends who bring noodles and key lime pie, who drive me to appointments, who cover my classes when I can't get to campus. I'm thankful for a terrific team of doctors and nurses doing everything in their power to help me heal, and I'm thankful for a great mechanic who assures me that my Volvo will run for a million miles or more and makes me want to keep driving long into the future.

I'm thankful for the strength to keep on teaching through treatment, for the ability to read and write and speak coherently most of the time, for the freedom to rest when I'm weak and to walk up the big horrible hill when my strength returns.

I'm still thankful for water and apples and hot soup on a cold day, but I gave up on fast food ages ago and I'm thankful that I haven't needed blood-pressure pills for almost two years now. I'm still thankful for umbrellas and streetlights, although I treasure the darkness and quiet of our rural road, where the dark sky glimmers with sparkly stars while great horned owls hoot in the woods.

These days we rarely find dolls in the bathtub or Legos on the floor, but I'm thankful for a future that might include grandchildren who will bring the best kind of noise and disorder into my home. I'm thankful for a whole mess of nephews and nieces, all growing into fine young men and women who offer hope for an exciting future.

I'm thankful that yesterday when I wanted to locate a newspaper column I wrote 15 years ago, I knew exactly which closet to look in and exactly which box to open. Chemotherapy may have sapped my energy and addled my mind, but it hasn't made me forget what's really important.

And for that I am thankful.